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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289469">Keep Your Enemies Closer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon'>RetroactiveCon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hartley Rathaway Being an Asshole, Hate Sex, M/M, Manipulative Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Trans Cisco Ramon, Workplace Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:53:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>In hindsight, Cisco can only assume Wells was hoping that this would be some kind of team-building exercise. And it surely is, if not, perhaps, in the way Wells had anticipated. Because, in the first place, inviting Cisco and Hartley to the same accelerator-status-report meeting was just a bad idea. But doing so and then being late to the meeting, leaving them stuck with no one but each other for company? That has to be deliberate. </em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cisco Ramon/Hartley Rathaway, Hartley Rathaway/Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Keep Your Enemies Closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In hindsight, Cisco can only assume Wells was hoping that this would be some kind of team-building exercise. And it surely is, if not, perhaps, in the way Wells had anticipated. Because, in the first place, inviting Cisco and Hartley to the same accelerator-status-report meeting was just a bad idea. But doing so and then being late to the meeting, leaving them stuck with no one but each other for company? That has to be deliberate. </p>
<p>“He’s fucking with us,” Cisco says presently, after five minutes of listening to Hartley heave progressively more put-upon sighs. He wishes he had some kind of mouth stim, but Hartley gives him hell for all of it—Red Vines, lollipops…even chewing on pens, which Cisco thought was a universal stress thing. </p>
<p>“Language,” Hartley huffs. Cisco once again feels the urge to punch him on his smug face. “And furthermore, Wells wouldn’t <em>fuck with us,</em> to use your oh-so-delicate terminology. He’s a busy man. I’m sure he got caught up somewhere and will be here shortly.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I dunno,” Cisco mutters. He’s well aware that what he’s about to say could get him punched in the face, but at least that would be demonstrably Hartley’s fault. Frankly, he could deal with a fistfight a lot better than snide remarks. “He pretty clearly fucks with you.”</p>
<p>Hartley’s severe expression makes Cisco remember some teachers he’s pissed off in the past. “I beg your pardon?” he demands. Cisco has to restrain a snort. He didn’t really expect the guy to get so pearl-clutchy, but he supposes it’s a rich-person thing. </p>
<p>“You’re not subtle.” He glances at the door just to double-check that no one’s about to disturb them. “Wells fucks you. The whole of STAR Labs knows it.”</p>
<p>“I fail to see how that’s relevant.” Hartley narrows his eyes. He’s not cute when he does that. (He’s not cute at all, whatever early-morning thoughts Cisco has had to the contrary.) “Unless you think I fucked my way to the position I have now?”</p>
<p>Cisco outright snorts at that. “Well, you said it, not me.”</p>
<p>Hartley bolts to his feet with a snarled “How dare you?” The next thing Cisco knows, he’s been shoved against the wall with Hartley’s arm across his throat. The pressure is unpleasant but far from cutting off oxygen. </p>
<p>“Get off,” Cisco rasps. He tries to squirm free, to little avail. Hartley presses just a little harder, and Cisco’s knees go weak and wobbly. He wishes it was just from fear.</p>
<p>Hartley leans in obnoxiously close. Cisco, who’s never been one for eye contact, nonetheless finds himself fascinated by Hartley’s eyes—blue, but with such wide pupils they look mostly black. Too pretty for such an unpleasant person, he thinks resentfully. “I earned my place at Wells’ right hand,” he snarls. “I didn’t fuck my way into his good graces. I earned where I am now, and I’m not about to let some upstart engineer take it from me in a matter of weeks.”</p>
<p>Cisco manages a slightly raspy laugh. “Why are you so threatened by me? If you earned your place, why am I such a problem…unless you think Wells will start playing favorites with the new guy?”</p>
<p>There’s the smallest flicker of something across Hartley’s face—jealousy? Doubt? It’s much too complicated and furtive to be anger, but it gives way to renewed fury before Cisco can process what else it might be. “Shut your mouth!”</p>
<p>“Make me.” Cisco leans forward as best he can, even though it cuts off more air than he can afford to lose. “Because if Wells walks through that door now, and sees you acting like this? It’s not gonna matter which of us he likes more. You’re assaulting a teammate. He’s gonna have to remove you.”</p>
<p>Hartley takes a step back and gives himself a little shake. “Much as I hate to admit it, you’re right,” he scoffs. </p>
<p>Cisco makes a show of straightening his shirt and clearing his throat. He sort of didn’t expect that to work. “Huh. So you adore him more than you hate me. That’s good to know.”</p>
<p>Hartley narrows his eyes. “Shut your mouth or I’ll make you.”</p>
<p>“You can’t,” Cisco reminds him. Glancing at the door reveals no sign of Wells yet. This <em>has</em> to be deliberate. “Remember, he could walk in at any…mmph!”</p>
<p>At first, Cisco thinks Hartley is about to headbutt him. Instead, their lips smash together hard enough to hurt. Cisco makes a shocked noise even as he melts into the kiss. Hartley is a pompous, annoying asshole, but <em>damn</em> is he a good kisser.</p>
<p>“For the record,” Cisco pants when Hartley draws back for a breath, “I did not consent to that.”</p>
<p>Hartley scoffs. His hands settle firmly on Cisco’s ass, pulling him even closer. The pressure makes Cisco all kinds of stim-happy and, shamefully, a little aroused. “You’re not pushing me away, are you?”</p>
<p>“That’s not how consent works, asshole.” It’s only a token protest. Cisco has absolutely no problem with Hartley backing him against the wall and stepping in between his spread thighs. Their hips grind together and Cisco lets out a high-pitched whine. Fuck, that shouldn't feel so good...</p>
<p>“Oh, really? Then do you want to beg for me to…” Hartley stops, face creasing in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, is this not enough to get you hard?”</p>
<p>Cisco groans and lets his head drop back against the wall. (He regrets it when pain bursts through his skull and lights dance behind his eyes. Ow.) “Do I pass that well, or are you just fucking unobservant?” He’s got follow-up snark just in case Hartley is one of those cis gays who reacts badly when they figure out they’re getting handsy with a trans guy. That would kill the mood real quick—not that there’s much of a mood to kill.</p>
<p>Hartley raises an eyebrow. “Shocking as this may seem, I have never before had occasion to wonder what’s in your pants.” He fumbles with Cisco’s fly, gets it open, and slips his hand inside Cisco’s pants. For just a second, his fingers do a surprised twitchy thing that makes Cisco want to laugh. Then he flattens his hand and presses it fully up against him. The stimulation is almost painful, but Cisco can’t stop rutting his hips forward, grinding against his palm. </p>
<p>“If you pull away, I will <em>kill</em> you,” he whines. </p>
<p>Hartley’s laugh is oddly breathy around the edges. “Easy way to ensure I don’t do that, isn’t there?” He grabs Cisco’s hand and guides it to the front of his slacks. Cisco’s hand clenches closed instinctively, and Hartley hisses and rocks his hips. “Ouch, ouch, ease off a little…<em>ohfuck</em>.” </p>
<p>Cisco loses track of how to do anything except rub his hand up and down in a slightly irregular rhythm. Judging by Hartley's shaky, eager breaths, that seems to be enough. He and Hartley just keep grinding on each other until Hartley bats his hand away. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to make a mess in my slacks.”</p>
<p>“Well your options are a little…<em>ah, ah</em>…limited.” Cisco shudders against Hartley’s hand. He’s so close, but Hartley’s not moving his hand in the way Cisco always does when he needs to push himself over the edge. The break from habit is distressing. </p>
<p>“Are they?” He leans in close and bites Cisco’s neck. The unexpected pain makes Cisco moan embarrassingly loudly. Nope, never gonna be able to look this fucker in the face again after this. “I know where Wells keeps the condoms.”</p>
<p>Cisco lets out a shocked giggle—first at Hartley’s all-but-admission that he’s fucked the boss, then as his implications become clear. “You’re asking me to let you fuck me? O-oh...” He tosses his head back and pushes his hips into Hartley’s hand. Oh, he really doesn’t need to dwell on that mental image right now. (Worse, Hartley can probably feel the way it makes him throb and get even wetter.) “O-okay, uh, bearing in mind that we’re literally waiting for a meeting with our boss…maybe not the best time to move from hate-handjobs to straight-up hatefucking?” </p>
<p>“How are you being logical like this with my hand down your pants?” Hartley huffs. He grinds his palm right where Cisco needs pressure. Desperately, Cisco parts his legs more and hitches his hips up. Hartley’s breathy, taunting laugh goes right to his head—damnit, that shouldn’t be a turn-on! “Though I suppose it's not such a loss. You wouldn’t even last long enough for me to put the condom on.”</p>
<p>Cisco really, really wishes he could prove him wrong. Unfortunately, Hartley rubs against him just right, and all he can do is mutter incoherent curses as he comes.</p>
<p>“I fucking hate you,” he sighs when it’s done. </p>
<p>“Then hate is a hell of an aphrodisiac,” Hartley singsongs smugly.</p>
<p>If he was less of a melty, post-orgasmic puddle, Cisco would flip him around, get between his legs, and return the favor. (It’s not at all out of curiosity about what Hartley looks like when he comes. He just wants him to shut up, for once.) Unfortunately, before he can recover, there’s a sharp sound from the doorway—a throat being cleared.</p>
<p>“You two had better not be fighting,” Wells says mildly. </p>
<p>Hartley leaps away from Cisco as though he’s been burned. He tucks his wet hand down by his side. Between that and the erection still straining the front of his slacks, he’s ridiculously conspicuous. Cisco braces for a reprimand for fooling around at work. Instead, Wells just raises an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Hartley, you and I will discuss this later. Go clean up. I expect you back here promptly.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Dr. Wells.” Hartley scurries out of the room without so much as a glance at Cisco. Oh, so that’s what they’re back to. That’s just lovely.</p>
<p>Cisco waits with bated breath for Wells to take him to task. Instead, Wells waves a hand at him. “Go clean up, Cisco. I’m not angry with you. I only ask that in the future, you keep such intimate moments out of the workplace.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Dr. Wells.” Cisco isn’t sure what to make of the difference in tone. Belatedly, he wonders if there may be some truth to Hartley’s fear of favoritism. (He’s not sure what to do if there is.)</p>
<p>As he all but bolts to the bathroom to clean up, he tries not to think about how much he wishes they’d had more time.</p>
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